Firebird
by Seinakyou
Summary: "Beware, warrior, for this bird will bring great prosperity and great harm to the man who captures her." When the world tries to separate them, two lovers will meet every challenge they are given just to find each other. ::GakuRin::
1. Awakening

**ANI: In which I exclaim that I definitely don't own anyone featured in this piece of fanwork. All characters are depicted as legal age. I do not condone any sort of illegal behaviour. Bad children, don't follow the example of anything I write. Yeah. Anyways, this is my gift to the lovely SinnersLikeUs, in return for putting up with my incessant chatter about anything and everything. She's lovely, and starting a new project soon, please go look her up! **

**Shout Out: **To SinnersLikeUs, again, except this time as my beta reader, because she read this through and told me exactly what was wrong with it and then fixed it.

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Firebird  
><strong>Author:<strong> seinakyou  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> GakuRin, others that have not yet been determined  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T

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><p><span>Chapter One: Awakening<span>

Gakupo sat in the corner, his sword propped up against the stool, hilt towards him in case he needed the blade. His fingers restlessly drummed the table in front of him, and the bar keep looks like he wants to run away, but forced himself to go up to the irate man and ask what he wants.

He started, before a polite smile slips onto his face. "Sake, please, if you have it." He responded smoothly, before turning his eyes away in a clear dismissal.

He's not sitting here because he wants to; he's sitting here because Kaito made him promise to meet him here at 8:00, just after sunset, so that they could celebrate the blue haired man's birthday.

A quick glance at the clock showed him the time. 9:10. He slowly closed his eyes, before exhaling loudly. He's going to wait for his drink, he decided, and if Kaito isn't here by then, Gakupo is out of here.

He got the drink a few seconds later, and sipped it, leaning back in his chair and keeping his eyes on the door. He tried to take his time drinking the alcohol, but all too soon, it's gone. He threw a few coins on the table out of his pocket before grabbing his sword and turning to walk away.

"Hey~!" Gakupo looked up to the ceiling, and then turned towards the source of the voice. Kaito is sprawled out on a table, his eyes blurred and a stupid grin on his face. "You're here, Gakkun! I thought you'd never show." He slurred, trying and failing to push himself up into a semblance of self control.

Gakupo restrained the urge to twitch at the stupid nickname before taking in the state of his obviously drunk best friend.

"Kaito," he began, trying to keep his voice calm, "I've been here since 8:00."

The drunk man shook his head emphatically, before finally succeeding in propping his chin up in his hands and stared up at the purple haired samurai like a lovesick schoolgirl. "Nuh-uh," he whines, "It's only 8:15 now!"

Gakupo sighed, before pulling up a chair and sitting down to face his friend. "Did you remember to change the clocks yet?" The blank look on his smashed companion's face is answer enough. Gakupo buried his head in his hands, disgruntled. "You know what, Kaito?" The man perked up at this name, a loving smile on his face. "It doesn't matter. Let's go celebrate." He turned towards his friend, a disapproving look on his face, "though it seems you've already begun."

Kaito giggled like a schoolchild before walking into a door frame and throwing up.

_It's going to be a long night._

…

Gakupo could take the humiliation of having his hair braided - with friends like his, it happened frequently.

He could take the utter disgrace of being forced into make-up by his sister, whose last three suitors had already decided the green haired girl would never be a good bride.

But he could _not_ take the mortification of what his best friend was trying to get him to do.

"Kaito," he said flatly, barely sparing him a glance, "I am not going in there."

"But Gakkun~" his friend wailed, jumping on his back so that the purple haired man staggered forwards in surprise. "It's for my birthday!"

"No," he said through gritted teeth, because Kaito was actually kind of heavy. "I am not going to do that. Not now, not ever."

Through the drunken haze, Kaito tried to think of a good argument. "But last year you forgot my birthday, and you said you'd do anything with me on my next one!" he settles with, whimpering his sorrow into his friend's left ear.

Gakupo stiffened, and Kaito could feel his victory approaching. "Please?" he wheedled, and then cheered when Gakupo muttered a rebellious "Fine." Gakupo tried to keep a hold of his dignity as he carries his drunk friend into a bordello.

Right before the door, he stopped, and looked back at his partner-in-battle. "Why a…" he cringed "cat-house, anyways?"

Kaito turned a sleepy smirk towards him, before trailing a finger down the man's chest. "Because," he crooned, "Gakkun needs to get laid."

Gakupo bit back an outraged scream.

…

Upon entering the building, Gakupo could only think one thing. _I wonder how their fathers feel?_

Kaito, a bit more sober since his best friend dropped him on the floor, lazily wrapped his arms around his friend.

"So…" he trailed off, "See anyone you like?" He winked.

Gakupo shuddered. "No. No, I don't. I don't want to be here." He's aware that his voice had just reached the petulant tone of a sulky child, but he's having a hard time caring. "Can we please go?"

Kaito grinned cheekily. "Nope! We're not leaving until morning!"

Gakupo pursed his lips in distaste. "But those poor girls…"

Kaito gave him an incredulous look. "Gakkun… it's their job. It's not like we're picking them up off the streets, these girls have unions and shit. Relax."

Gakupo snorted, both at the nickname and the argument. "Che."

Kaito grabbed his hand and pulled them both over to a lady sitting at a desk. The blue haired man gave the girl sitting there a once over, before his eyes got starry. "Kind lady," he purred, leaning on the desk in, what he assumed was a charming manner, "how do we go about choosing our business."

The aqua haired girl glanced up with a bored look before pushing his hand off the desk. "Well," she said, "I suppose you could ask me who I recommend for you." Kaito opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "Not me." She gave the downcast boy a quick look, before frowning. "For you… I'd say…" she suddenly blinked, and then she laughed. "Sorry, got ahead of myself. Girl or boy?" she asked cheerfully, mirth dancing in her eyes.

Kaito's jaw dropped. "I'm… you're… what?" he squeaked.

She put a hand over her mouth to cover her laughter, before raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm serious," she said, "I have to know!"

Kaito swallowed. "I… um…_girl_! he yelled, blushing. The girl nodded serenely, before turning to the back room.

"Luka!" she called, and a pretty pink haired girl came out. "Could you please show this man to…" she looked down at a ledger, "Um… Meiko-san's room, please?"

The girl bowed her head in assent before taking Kaito's hand and leading the blushing boy up the stairs. The girl at the desk then turned her gaze over to Gakupo. "How about you? Preference?"

Gakupo snorted, and muttered under his breath "Not to be here." The girl smiled reassuringly.

"Ah, a first timer?" He blushed and turned his head, but didn't say anything. "Don't worry, don't worry. Nothing here is illegal, it's just entertainment. Now," she persisted, "Preference?"

He screwed his eyes shut, then opened them a second later. "Girl."

"Hmmm…" she hummed, narrowing her eyes at him. "Anything specific?"

An image of yellow hair and a pretty smile flashed through his mind unbidden. Choking back the memory, he muttered, "Yellow. Yellow hair."

The girl beamed. "You're in luck! We have girl just like that, and she's not currently with a client." She turned to a back room again. "Hello? Anyone in there?"

It took a moment, but finally a red haired girl stormed out, scowling and crossing her arms. "The _hell_ d'ya want, Miku?" She groaned, running a hand through mussed up ringlets.

Miku simply rolled her eyes. "Teto-chan," she chided gently, "We have a customer."

Teto turned and sneered at Gakupo, who blinked, alarmed. "Che. So what?" She grumbled, "You'd better have a reason for calling me out, I just finished my shift."

Miku gestured towards Gakupo, who stiffened. "Could you please escort this gentleman to Rin-chan's room, Teto-chan?"

She whipped her head back to the purple haired man, glaring. "Oh." She said flatly. "One of those."

"Teto-chan." Miku reprimanded sharply. "A first timer. I'm sure he has no clue what you mean."

She snorted. "Whatever." Teto turned to Gakupo, irritation still lacing her gaze. "Follow me, pretty boy," she said before turning and walking down a hall. Gakupo turned to Miku, trepidation in his gaze. She caught his eyes, and made a shooing gesture with her hands.

"Go on!" she said, "I swear, she's not going to do anything to you."

He turned and followed the red haired girl out of the room. Miku buried her head in her hands. "I hate this job," she muttered as the pink haired girl from before walked back into the room and kissed the top of her head. "Luka, it's your turn at the desk tomorrow," she said quietly before raising herself out of the chair and walking into the back room.

Inside the room was seven cots for all the girls when they weren't on duty. Currently, there were only two occupied. Haku was grimacing in her sleep, a nightmare, no doubt, and Neru was sitting up, leaning against the wall but still asleep. The room was silent, and Miku felt her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm sorry." She whispered to no one, before tiptoeing past the slumbering girls and collapsing onto a cot. She tried not to think about anything, but a few errant thoughts slipped through her consciousness as she toed the line between sleep and wakefulness.

_I wonder,_ she mused sleepily, _why I thought I recognized that guy?_

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><p><strong>ANII: Yeah, leaving you to wonder. I'll get the next out as soon as I can, and I sincerely hoped you enjoyed this!<strong>

**~Seinakyou**


	2. Work and Play

**ANI: Disclaimer. Same as always, I own nothing, including the characters who seem intent on driving each other crazy in a variety of different ways. Shame on them. **

**Super Special Thanks To: **SinnersLikeUs, because she's very incredibly patient and awesome and deserves much cake and Gakkun love for dealing with all my strange little ideosyncrasies, including using that word. She's awesome, and she's also writing a story called "Superficial Dreaming and Intoxication," also for this pairing, based off of 'Iroha Uta.' Go check it out now.**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Firebird  
><strong>Author:<strong> seinakyou  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> GakuRin, others that have not yet been determined  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T

* * *

><p>Gakupo followed Teto through the oddly quiet hallways, but his mind was elsewhere. He was infuriated with Kaito for bringing him here, strangely grateful to Miku for her small kindnesses and incredibly confused by Teto's instant vitriol upon hearing of his purpose here. He let out a little groan upon thinking of that. He didn't want to deal with her right now and prayed she would just keep walking until she calmed down.<p>

Unfortunately, this wasn't to be the case, as she stopped abruptly right in front of him so that he walked into her with a startled "Oomph!" and was knocked off balance.

She whirled upon him in an instant, and before he could even blink he was pressed up against a wall, a hand at his neck and sharp nails digging into his throat.

"Look," she hissed, "I get that you're new to this, so I'll be _nice_ about this." Her fingers dug a little deeper into the skin at his neck, before she leaned in close to him. "Hurt her, in any way," she whispered, saccharinely sweet, "and I will make you bleed." Her face was flushed, and her eyes shone with intensity. A scowl marred her pretty face, and her hair was strewn around her shoulder, giving her the look of a fevered wildcat

Trying to ignore the mounting feeling of unease building in his stomach, Gakupo subtly slid his sword hand to his scabbard and gripped it, hoping that the vague hint towards his state of armament would convince her to draw back a little.

Luckily, it did.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. After a moment's pause, she released him and harrumphed. Silently, he brought a hand up to his throat and rubbed at the bruises that were surely forming. Her impassive eyes took in his bewildered look and the hand now at his neck, and then she turned and flounced away in a mess of red curls and a white nightgown.

He reached out to her a few seconds after she's gone, in a desperate plea for directions. He was, loath though he was to admit it, lost. His fingers twitched slightly before he schooled his face into a calmer expression. He screwed his eyes shut and exhaled loudly in exasperation and frustration, running a hand through his long hair and leaning back against the wall, trying to collect his rapidly swirling thoughts. He groaned and buried his head in his hands, trying to get rid of the unwanted nuisances as he sunk down the wall to rest on his haunches. He abruptly wished that life was more simple for a moment, and unbidden the same memory as before flashed behind his eyes.

He saw:

_A tall tower looming over two figures, a pretty young girl handing him a flower, a sunset behind them, a girl asleep in his arms, hands linked, pulling, pushing, then sudden agony as…_

He lurched up from sitting on his heels and slammed a hand against a wall, trying to steady himself.

_No, _he thought viciously, _not here, not now, not ever, never again, never_.

As he gasped for breath, fighting for control over himself, a clear peal of laughter burst out from within one of the doors on his left.

His head snapped instantly to the source of the noise, hand automatically going to rest on the hilt of his sword. When no further sound followed, he forced himself to relax, cursing himself for his sudden, violent, reaction. He then stood up and brushed off his already immaculate clothes, making a decision.

_Well_, he thought grimly, _I guess it's now or never._ With that thought, he made out for the source of the laughter, footsteps echoing resolutely in the hallways as he walked towards a door with a carved plaque resting on it, bearing the name _Rin._

…

_Hands caressing, moans coming out unrestrained, mouths meeting mouths, ravishing, searching, and as his hand bunches up her skirt, he mutters onto her tongue 'He's here.'_

_…_

Gakupo stood in front of the door, mind still racing as he stared blankly at the paper and wood in front of him.

He rapped on the door frame, unsure of the etiquette of what was about to happen, but when he heard nothing after almost five minutes, he simply slid open the door with all his usual tact and took in his surroundings.

It was a beautiful room, he supposed, if a little stark. Though he couldn't see much, he surmised that there was little more than a four poster bed and a large mirror on one side of the room, and a large window on the other side that stood open, curtains rippling gently in the night breeze.

"Hello?" He ventured, on edge at the emptiness of the room, and he suddenly thought maybe he was in the wrong place.

But then, the same laughter echoed through the room, seemingly coming from every corner. He swore, years of battle instilling paranoia into him as he unsheathed his sword and held it in front of him. "Who's there?" he demanded, but his voice barely covered the laughter.

"Now, now," the voice chided, amusement colouring its tone. "No need to get violent, eh?"

He snarled and grit his teeth. "I command you, tell me who you are!"

There was a pause, and then the laughter echoed again. "Oh, so you _command_ me?" There was an edge to the voice that hadn't been there before, and Gakupo was irked by the sulky dissent directed at him. The voice let out a sigh. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

From the shadows in the far corner of the room, a match blazed and he could see a pair of pale hands illuminated by them, and then a lantern flared up and the hands gained arms and a body and a face that stared at him with wide blue eyes. The figure was perched upon an immaculately polished stool, and was dressed in a colourful kimono that was loosely tied at the front.

Catching his eyes, the figure grinned. "Well, hello there." She cocked her head to the side, and began to twirl a piece of hair around her finger, all the while maintaining a devilish grin. "I'm Rin."

…

_Brown hair spilled over the woman's shoulders as she peered at him through the corner of her eyes. Licking the top of his ear, she trailed her tongue down the rim of his ear, eliciting a shudder, before she nipped his earlobe and whispered 'It's about time. You were almost too late.'_

…

At a first glance, he noted, she was very pretty. Though her blonde hair was unusually short, it framed her face and gave her a boyish youth that was only illuminated by her wide blue eyes and skinny limbs. He couldn't tell, since she was sitting down, but he thought she seemed rather short, which wasn't as much of a surprise as the general age he took her to be.

He stared at the lanky girl in front of him with horror for a few seconds before blushing madly. "I… er… you're…" She fixed him with an unusually piercing gaze.

"Young?" she inquired, one eyebrow quirked. She hopped of the stool, and her socks made the sound of impact a hushed whisper. "Well, obviously." She strolled towards him, stride perfectly even. "That's what you asked for, right?"

He blinked twice before what she said finally sunk in. "You mean…" he said awkwardly, voice cracking. He coughed, and then tried again. "You mean, people actually ask for you?"

It was obvious that she was trying to project a look of hurt, but he could see the poorly hidden mirth behind her gaze. "Aw, that was actually pretty mean." She pouted, then crossed over to the bed, and sat down on it with gusto. "You asked, didn't you?" she repeated, and then patted the place on the bed next to her.

He coloured slightly at the invitation, and actively tried to avoid her gaze. "Um, no thank you," he replied, shifting uncomfortably in his long robes.

She grumbled, and then flopped down onto the mattress, feet still dangling over the edge. "I swear," she began, annoyance creeping into her tone, "you're the most difficult customer I've ever had." She rolled over onto her stomach and rearranged her position so that her head rested innocently in her hands. "Please, just humour me?" she pleaded, giving him a very impressive rendition of the puppy dog eyes. "Look at me, even?"

Giving in, he flicked his eyes from where they had firmly rested on the ceiling to her, and he immediately regretted it. All her squirming around had loosened her robe at the front, so he could see a line of flesh straight from her throat to her navel. He swallowed with some difficulty, throat suddenly dry. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish a few times, then firmly moved his eyes back to the ceiling, face bright red.

He heard an exasperated snort. "What the hell. I don't care; I'm being paid by the hour." He heard shuffling again, then the striking of a match and suddenly the smell of opium filled the room. He looked sharply at her, all hesitance forgotten.

"Put that out," he ordered. She simply turned an amused glance towards him and breathed in the drug deeply, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Make me." She enunciated each word clearly, and with a dangerous twinkle in her eyes slowly and deliberately brought the pipe to her lips once again.

He crossed the distance between them in two long strides, grabbed the pipe out of her hands and placed it on a desk he had previously missed. She reached out for it, but he quickly grabbed her hand. When she reached with the other, he grabbed the other and transferred both into one of his hands. She glanced down at her captor's hands, before looking back up, an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Oh, ho," she laughed quietly, "so you're one of _those_ guys." She looked up at him with pure blue eyes, before wrestling her hands out of his unusually weak grip. He looked down at her hands for a second, then back up to her eyes, when she lunged forward, slapping him across the face, hard.

As his head snapped to the side, the sound resounding in the room, he saw red.

He heard a low, guttural growl and distantly noticed that it had come from him. He launched towards her and grabbed both of her hands, this time taking them both and pinning them over her head against the wall. "Never," he hissed, "do that again."

She continued to stare at him, laughter dancing in her eyes.

Something inside of him roared at her cheek, so he leaned in, pressing her into the wall. "Didn't you hear me?" he said, voice deceptively quiet.

A grin played along her lips. "Oh, I've heard all I need to know."

…

_He leaned into her touch, before placing his fingers at the base of her spine, mercifully bare. He slowly trailed his fingers up her spine, relishing as she grasped his shoulders and moaned into them. 'Hey,' he scolded, 'I did the best I could; he can be so stubborn.' He paused for thought, fingers still teasing her back. 'That's part of the reason why he'd make such a good leader.'_

…

The rage in him cooled as quickly as it had come.

"What? What do you mean, all you need to know?" he asked, staring into her eyes, so much lower than his own. He was again struck by how young she was, and by association, how short.

"Well, you know…" she began vaguely, averting her eyes from his and struggling beneath his grasp, though the impertinent grin still remained.

He bit back an impatient scowl, but tightened his grip on her hands, still above her. He rested his other elbow against the wall right next to her head, and leaned in so that their faces almost touched. "What did you mean?" he asked again. It was barely a question this time.

She looked back up at him with wide eyes, the picture of innocence, and he faltered slightly. "I meant exactly what I said," she whispered, and he could feel her breath on his face. "I now know everything about you."

And with that, she bent her arms at the elbows and leaned in, smashing her lips against his into a kiss.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced, for a variety of reasons. First of all, he had only ever kissed two girls, and one of them had been when he was ten and the other hadn't loved him and had just wanted to see what it felt like. Those had been flat, emotionless affairs, but this could only be described as electric. He could suddenly feel very acutely everything around him, the scratchy fabric against his chest, the whisper of his hair as it flitted in the breeze, her soft hands, and then he realized exactly what was wrong with this picture and pushed her off, letting go of both her hands and recoiling to the other side of the room. He took two deep breaths, gulping for air as he held a hand to his chest. _What was that?_ he thought, slightly panicked.

She looked over at him. He expected shock, but she was unnervingly calm. "Hmm," she hummed, "this is going to be very interesting."

He drew himself up at this assessment and met her gaze with stony indifference. "I don't expect so," he said rather stiffly, "for I don't think I shall ever be seeing you again. Good evening." With that, he strode out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Unsurprisingly, as he turned the corner, he heard a burst of clear, high laughter follow him out the door and into the dark night.

…

_The woman looked over at the man as he pulled his clothes back on. She climbed out from under the covers and sidled up behind him, wrapping her arms around his still bare waist. 'You'll be back, won't you?' she asked in an uncharacteristic burst of insecurity. _

'_Of course.' He responded smoothly, leaning back into her grip. She felt her heart leap a little. 'After all, we still have work to do.' Her heart plunged into her stomach. With that, he gently pried her arms off of him and pressed a slow, smouldering kiss to her lips. 'And besides,' he continued warmly, 'I'd miss you.' He looked her in the eyes, and pressed a finger to his lips, eyes kind. 'Keep this our little secret, alright?' She nodded wordlessly; suddenly, hopelessly elated._

_The man pulled on his shirt and his jacket and shot her a final glance as he gave her a final little wave and sauntered out of the room._

"_I'll see you soon, Meiko."_

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><p><strong>ANII: -whines- Guys~ please review? I'm glad to get any feedback, good or bad, even if it's just one word. I used to never review, but now I do because then I make the author feel loved... hey, like, please? I'd love you forever, and happy author means updating author...<strong>

**~Seinakyou~**_  
><em>


	3. Of Turtles and Tea

_**ANI: Disclaimer. Same as always, I own nothing. Well, not nothing, but at least no rights to this.**_

**And...:** I'm so sorry for taking so long, guys... it's pretty short, but I swear the action will start soon.

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><p><strong>Title:<strong> Firebird  
><strong>Author:<strong> seinakyou  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> GakuRin, MikuLen, MikuLuka, KaitoMeiko  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T

* * *

><p>Hushed<em> whispers. The silk rustled, and though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was there. There was a creak as the paper divider moved, and then he could see her eyes, at least. He guessed that she couldn't see a thing, and he couldn't see much either, so when she reached out, he had to struggle to find her hand. She flinched a little when his hand first caught hers, but then she felt the calluses and the small cut on the base of his thumb from his training and grasped his hand his enveloping hers.<em>

_He opened his mouth to say something, but he knew all the words they needed had already been said, so he just closed and, and submitted himself to the silence. Her fingers trailed along his palm, tracing the light lines and mapping the scars until he shivered, the sensitive skin tingling under her light ministrations. She then flipped his hand over and ran her fingertips over the knuckles, then moving down to his wrist, where her fingers whispered over the veins._

_She brought his hand up to her cheek, and he relaxed into the touch, finally, a touch. She held his hand there for a moment, leaning into the touch and he awed at the smooth skin on her cheek and hungered to see it as well, to see her face and be with her, and then she moved his palm until his fingers trailed over her lips, and for a brief moment he wanted to just throw propriety aside and kiss her. But she kept his hand moving until the centre of his palm was lined up against her mouth, and there she planted a small, chaste kiss there. He sighed, closing his eyes. Small, delicate finger wrapped around his, and she gently took his hand, hers cool against his own. She pressed his fingers close to his palm, his hand closing into a fist without any resistance. Once his hand was fully closed, she hesitantly withdrew her hand, and in the light of the sunrise, he could swear he saw a small smile flit across her lips._

_She looked out to the window, and shook her head. He couldn't see her now, she had slipped behind the curtain once again. Glancing out the window behind him, he saw the sun was rising quickly now. He stood to love, but her hand, pale in the orange light, grabbed his sleeve, and she handed him a note, in hasty but refined writing._

"_The cricket croaks on the right side of the pavilion, sheltered in solitude. The warrior comes to free her from her prison of silence, and she shall sing freely and with great joy for him, and him alone."_

_Exasperated but amused, he shook his head. The language was as cryptic as all her correspondences had been, and yet he no longer minded._

_Tomorrow, he though, it all depends on tomorrow._

_Because tomorrow, we'll be… I'll be… _

…

Gakupo lurched up from his place on the cot, gasping for breath, and immediately regretted it. He felt sick, and there was a pounding headache pressing against his skull. He groaned, and smoothed back his hair from his face, grimacing as he felt the stickiness of both.

He heard a whisper of a footstep, and then the room, once dark, was suddenly illuminated by a ray of light. He let out a manly squeak of agony before falling back on the mattress and shoving a pillow over his head.

He heard clear laughter ringing out from the window, and suddenly, memories of the night before flashes before his eyes in rapid succession, the colours and sounds and feelings making him feel even more sick, and consequently he removed the pillow and threw up over the side of the bed.

"Not cleaning that up." Said Kaito's wry voice, a tinge of amusement echoing in his voice.

For the first time since his best friend's last birthday, Gakupo felt like punching the man, and probably would have if he could've mustered the strength to haul himself up from his pitiful position on the floor. His mouth tasted like bile, his throat burned, his eyes itched, and his hair was getting in the puddle of vomit.

His hair. He feebly lifted a hand off of the floor and gathered his hair into a reasonable facsimile of a ponytail, resolving to wash it later. However, as he reached towards the table next to his bed for the tie and ornaments he always used, his hand found only solid wood. Frantically, hair now abandoned, he scrambled around the vomit and looked behind the table.

"Gaku..?" Kaito asked from near the window, hands still casually in his pockets even as he pushed off of the wall he was leaning against with his left foot, leaning into a step. "Is something wrong?" he asked, voice cautious.

Gakupo felt like he couldn't breathe. The memories, and the memories of the night before, and the sudden aching loss of something so important weighed down on him, and when he finally shook off the horror and turned to Kaito, the man looked truly worried.

"I…" he began, throat scratchy and not sure what he was trying to say, "I… it's… Kaito!" he looked up to the blue haired soldier with fevered eyes, "Kaito, it's gone!" he finally managed to spit out, before staggering up to a standing position.

Instantly, he was forced to rest his hands on his knees, the sudden change in altitude wreaking havoc on his mental capabilities. His vision faded black, and his head swam. He could feel Kaito's hands guiding him towards the cot and then he was sat down on the bed, and his head gently rested between his knees.

"Calm down," directed Kaito, the man's cool hand against his forehead, "you're still messed up from last night." There was a prolonged pause, then: "That was awesome, by the way, best birthday present ever."

Gakupo, with the last remaining dredges of his consciousness, tried to dredge up anything the man could be referring to, and then, with alarming clarity, he realized what he was talking about.

"Oh." He said flatly, and then he groaned in embarrassment and dismay. "Kaito," he whispered, venom edging into his tone, "I'm never doing that again, so don't even ask."

"But-" Kaito wisely shut his mouth after being cut off by a steely glare from the purple haired man who was now peering at him, eyes practically glowing, from underneath his bangs, and his forelocks were thicker now, too, and it was about this point when Kaito realized what Gakupo had been talking about earlier.

"Gakkun," he began lightly, the nickname causing the hung over samurai to snort, then feebly whimper, "Gakkun, where's your hair…" he made vague motions circling the back of his head, finger waggling for emphasis "… thingies."

Gakupo looked up at the blue haired man, panic hidden beneath calm.

"I don't know." He said, then buried his head in his hands again, "Honestly, I don't have a clue."

Kaito blinked twice. "Oh." Then, more frantically: "Oh, shit, Gakkun, this is bad, those are your-"

The hung over samurai just looked at him sharply, and Kaito changed topic mid-sentence.

"Then, what're we gonna do?" Kaito yelped, running a hand through his hair in agitation, "Shit, Gakkun, you can't even try to show up without those, they'll crucify you!"

A deathly silence spread through the room, and then: "Then I'll find them. Simple as that." He stated flatly, before standing rapidly, ignoring the headache and the nausea.

Robes swirling, he walked out of the room, his loose hair in a curtain behind him.

Kaito stood in the empty room for a moment, before he walked to the window, closing the curtains. Looking around the darkened room, he felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Something is about to change, he thought, shivering, and then he walked out of the room. Pausing, he glanced back into the sparse room from the door way, and then looked down at the items in his hand with a trace of guilt. It's for the best, he reminded himself, and then he pocketed the hair ornaments and closed the door behind him.

…

Rin blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and then groaned.

"Miku," she hissed at the chipper woman who had just opened her curtains, "it is far too early to be up. Leave me alone." She then proceeded to throw herself under the covers, curling up in a ball.

The tealette snorted, before resting her hands on her hips. "Fine, then. I _won't_ take your laundry, I _won't _make sure you're not late for your next appointment, and I definitely won't ask if you want anything from the market." She said loftily, before harrumphing and spinning out of the room with a rather smug grin on her face.

3… 2… 1…

She was stopped by a raspy, slightly gravelly voice. "Wait…" it whimpered, and when she turned around she saw that her friend had stuck the top of her head out of covers, though she still very much resembled a turtle, and one hand was feebly outstretched towards the door.

"Yes?" Miku replied patiently, waiting out the blonde's flair for theatricality.

"Could you," the voice whispered softly, though Rin's eyes were glinting feverishly in the morning light, "could you remember to get me some oranges?" she finished hopefully, repentance colouring her tone.

Miku giggled behind her hand. "Of course I will. Now, get up, you lazy slug." She sang, deftly blocking the pillow that came flying at her head.

"I am _not_ a slug." Her friend replied hotly, now sitting Indian style on the bed, hands on her hips and cheeks puffed in outrage. Rin leapt off the bed, then started waving her arms frantically, like an octopus. "See!" she hollered, "See, not a slug!"

"No," Miku agreed amicably, picking up dirty clothing up from off of Rin's floor, "you're not a slug. More like an octopus, now."

Rin stopped, and stamped her foot. "Miku," she whined, "stop it!"

Miku rolled her eyes, and walked out the door. Halfway down the hallway, she yelled back. "Rin! Appointment! Noon! Don't forget!"

Rin stuck her tounge out at her, though the action went entirely unappreciated and unnoticed, then grumbled and set about getting dressed, muttering snide comments under her breath about how she doesn't need mothering, and where Miku should go stick her advice.

But something in the back of her mind was still ringing from her strange encounter last night. She couldn't put her finger on it, but…

Whatever. It didn't matter, she told herself, it's not like I'll ever see him again.

…

Miku walked out of the door, and in the early morning light the building looked no different from those around it – a covered patio out front, hints of a tea room on the inside and windows spaced out evenly on the wooden wall. But that didn't matter, because it was different. This high class neighbourhood, with its expensive teahouses and fabulous tailor shops, was home to more than a few a shady places. Hers, she decided, was the classiest out of all of them. None of her friends were ever abused, none were allowed to be, and they were all safe, warm happy and well fed. She looked down at the basket in her arms and amended that last statement. They would be well fed, as long as she got to the market on time.

A pink haired girl came rushing out of the door, hair and clothing immaculate and elegant without being overstated.

"Luka!" Miku greeted cheerfully, and waved her over. "Where are you off to, in these awful early hours?"

The girl paused, then wrinkled her nose. "Family meeting, I think. Bound to be loads of fun." Miku nodded in comprehension.

"Well, I guess there's nothing else to be expected." Miku allowed, before snapping her fingers. "Right! I know you got tuna on the list last night, but did you want anything else? I'm about to head off to the market, and…" she trailed off as her friend's eyes brightened. She wasn't sure if she read it right, and anyways it's not like Luka would say it if she was correct, but… "Do you wanna come with me?" She ventured, and was rewarded by a small, but happy smile.

"I'd love to." The pinkette replied regally, but enthusiasm bubbled beneath her tone.

"Right, then!" Miku replied exuberantly. "We'd better go, otherwise all the good stuff will be gone."

As they headed down the road, Miku was struck by a sudden snag in their hastily formed plan. "What about you meeting?" She asked, concern slipping into her voice.

Luka waved it off with her hand, and replied "It's not like they need me there, or anything. It's just business, and I think everyone is good, right?" She turned to Miku, pausing in their walk. "Everyone's okay, aren't they?"

Miku tilted her head to the side and responded solemnly, "Thanks to you, yes. We owe it all to you and your family."

Luka raised her chin a little, and with a born and bred haughtiness peered down at the shorter girl. "Thanks to _me_," she stressed, "me. They don't care, but, uh, I do." Miku could read the sudden bout of insecurity in the older girl's eyes, and decided to remedy it. She smiled at Luka reassuringly and took her hand in hers, looking straight into her eyes.

"Thank you, Luka." She said sincerely, "for caring, and for everything you've done."

Luka flushed slightly and looked away. "Wh-whatever. Let's just go already." She stuttered, and set off down the road again, the teal haired girl following behind her.

Neither of them noticed they hadn't let go of the other's hand.

* * *

><p><strong>Man, I suck at updating. I promise, in my notes the next chapter even says 'PLOT!'<strong>

**~Seinakyou~**


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